


Through the Inferno

by bushlaboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4785743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/pseuds/bushlaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighty-six. The number that had been a blessing now felt like it was mocking him. -- A sort of S4 speculation twofer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not really sure where this came from but I watched the movie _Horns_ and the following bit of dialogue made me think of Oliver and Felicity.
> 
> "I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."
> 
> "Just love me for the rest of mine."

Thawne told him he lived to be eighty-six. When he thought he _might_ have months, if he was lucky, Oliver had clung to that prophecy. It didn't seem possible. He had every intention of dying right alongside Ra's to save his family and ensure the safety of his city. But he'd been given a glimmer of hope. Something to hold onto even as he saw disillusionment seep into every fiber of those he cherished most. 

That moment had nearly killed him, but what had tested his resolve the most had been Felicity's broken voice. _"We trusted you. You asked us to trust you and we trusted you."_ That he had shaken Felicity's belief in him, which had been unwavering through so much, broke something in his soul.

Those years Thawne dangled had felt like a curse in that moment because living in a world where he had lost Felicity's faith was something he couldn't stomach the thought of and he welcomed the death he knew was coming.

That he hadn't died felt cruel up until the moment he saw her again. Oliver thought he had lost her love, her belief, and her trust but even as she radiated with anger and disappointment he could see all that and so much more shimmering beneath it. After all his poor choices, all the blood he spilled, and how much he hurt her she was still fighting with him. And what rocked him to his very core, fighting _for_ him.

Standing before her, her hand over his heart as she once again offered the words he needed - words he was unworthy of - Oliver was reminded again that he was undeserving of Felicity Smoak. If they succeed in stopping the League and saving the city it would not because he had been a hero, but because she _was_.

He had also promised himself that if he lived through the fight, and for the first time he desperately wanted to, that he would do whatever was necessary to spend those prophesied days loving her, making her happy and being worthy of her.

He had only to ask, which seemed too simple and easy, and accept. That had been harder. Oliver kept expecting Felicity to come to her senses and realize that she deserved someone so much better.

_What I deserve is to be with someone who isn't afraid of being happy._

Oliver could not honestly say if he had a fear of happiness, but his experience told him that it didn't last and could only end one way: brutally and with more blood on his hands. So maybe he had been scared, particularly with Felicity, because he would not survive if their happiness ended in that manner.

Whenever that fear crept into his thoughts Oliver recalled the fifty plus years he was going to get. He'd think of that and about Felicity by his side and all dark possibilities subsided. His future had certainty. He would die having lived a long life, a happy one because Felicity would feature in every moment of it.

Even after learning that Barry had effectively changed the future, that Thawne no longer existed he took solace in the fact that the man's actions hadn't been erased. He could don the hood again, battle Darhk and succeed. He had fifty years coming.

What had never crossed his mind – because it had been _unthinkable_ – was that Felicity would not have those years with him. Everything he was, anything he could be, was tied to the tiny blonde who filled in the broken pieces of heart and soul. There was no Oliver Queen, no Green Arrow, no _anything_ without her.

Crumbled to the floor, her blood drying on his clothes and hands, deaf to the world around him and unable to truly breathe he waited. And he prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in. 

Eighty-six. The number that had been a blessing now felt like it was mocking him. What use were those years without Felicity? He didn't want them without her.

Hours he waited, barely registering the rest of their family, not even Thea. Even when she clasped his hands that were caked in dried blood. Felicity's blood. Her life on his hands.

Nothing breached his dark, spiraling thoughts. The ending he dreaded. The one Thawne's words had promised wouldn't happen was transpiring and he was wading through it at a snail's pace. Every horrible second elongated, drawn out ... it was worst torture he had ever experienced.

Oliver knew he couldn't take fifty more years of this, let alone another minute. If she stopped breathing, he wanted his breath to stop as well.

"Mr. Queen?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

His head snapped up. He saw the scrubs, the white coat. Oliver knew her next words would define his existence. He was terrified to respond, to learn their fate. As long as he waiting, as painful as it was, he could hope. He could believe that they still had a chance of a future together.

 _Please_.

Unable to speak he nodded and rose from the floor. Unsteady Thea and Dig assisted him. Oliver braced himself for the worst, it was all life had offered him, until he walked into an office to find a blonde with a red pen between her lips. She was his happy story, the only story he wanted. The only one that mattered.

"Your fiancée is in critical but stable condition."

"She's ..." his knees quivered and he felt Dig's strong, solid arm wrap around him to hold him up. “Felicity is alive?" His voice was quiet, wavering with hope and disbelief as he asked the question.

"Yes ..." The doctor continued to speak but Oliver didn't hear the words. He could feel Dig and Thea holding him up, but all he could see was those fifty years. Years that could still be filled with Felicity.

He could finally breathe again.

When they finally let him into her room the sight of her pale, hooked up to machines that whined and beeped could have wrecked him. Instead Oliver zeroed in on the rise and fall of her chest. Proof that she was alive, that she was still with him. It was the second most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and it promised him the thing he craved most in the world – a future, their future together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because [dettiot ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot)and [BlueBayou](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBayou/pseuds/BlueBayou) put the idea in my head.

There were numerous things to love and admire about Oliver Jonas Queen. He had a huge heart, one filled with compassion that drove him to help those in need as a friend, as a vigilante, as a mayor, and as a philanthropist. He was willing to sacrifice, too much and way too willingly, for those he loved. And how he loved, loyally with unwavering steadfastness. Not to mention he looked good, shirtless or not. Felicity was not above admiring his physical attributes. They were just another appealing aspect that made Oliver who he was, the man she loved and in believed in.

The overprotective and suffocating doofus she was ready to clobber over his head with one of his own escrima sticks. She understood, up to a point. He had held her in his arms while she nearly bled out. Living out one of your greatest fears was not easy. It scarred you. Not in a way anyone could see physically, but there was a mar on your soul. One that could never be fully healed.

At first acquiescing to his new over-the-top treat Felicity like the finest porcelain had been easy. Her recovery had been long and tiring, and having a growling Oliver hovering over her, keeping at bay things she hadn't been ready for but knowing exactly when she needed a push, had been a gift. His broad shoulders carried a lot of weight and knowing he was always there to lean on had made a difficult experience bearable.

His insistence that she ease herself back into work – both her daily and nighttime duties – had caused her to grumble. Of course when she’d felt exhausted after her first half-day at the office she had grudgingly admitted that he’d been right. She had been frustrated that she could not simply jump right back into her busy life. CEO by day, hero support at night all while planning their wedding. It was a lot, but she had juggled it so easily before and it annoyed her that things that had come so naturally before took effort. Sometimes extra effort.

She was grateful for Oliver's support, but there was no way she could get back to herself or that they could get back to being them if he kept tackling things for her. They butted heads over that. There had been excessive use of her loud voice and a prolonged reappearance of broody Oliver. Getting over that hump had felt like a tremendous victory and had been celebrated like one with copious amounts of make-up sex. For a moment Felicity really thought they were going to get back to normal. Well normal for them.

However, as her routines returned to normal, Oliver's need to protect her went from overdrive to completely ridiculous. If she didn't love him as much as did and know what drove his behavior she would have cracked much sooner than now.

 _Months_. She had given him months to ease up. To remember the need for personal space and alone time. Hell she would have taken being able to soak in a bubble bath alone for hour, but even that had been denied her and Felicity just couldn't take it anymore.

The cool, collected conversation she wanted to have turned into a brutal argument. "You can't use that as an excuse anymore," she responded when he reminded her yet again that she had _almost_ died on him. When he merely glowered at her, she lost it completely. "You actually _died_ on me Oliver. Or so we thought and I didn't treat you like you were incompetent when you returned."

"No, you just told me that you didn't want to be the woman I love," he threw back angrily.

His words felt like a physical blow and caused her breath to hitch. Felicity couldn't be sure what he saw in her face, but whatever it was, was enough for his stance to deflate and regret to color his eyes. "Felicity," she could hear the apology in way he said her name as he stepped forward. He stopped short when she flinched back.

She could feel herself fighting back tears. She wanted to counter him, to remind him that she wasn't reacting to his 'death' but his choice to work with Malcolm Merlyn. Felicity could not find a way to push those words or any out of her mouth. His words, his tone – they had sliced through her. Oliver had hurt her before with his actions, with his decisions, but he had never done so with intent. Until now. Because he knew, they had talked about it and so many other things, a few times over their first summer together. They had moved past the hurt and disappointment and focused on moving forward, crafting a future they would spend together.

Up to a moment ago Felicity would have sworn until she was blue in the face, on anything, including Sara Diggle's life that Oliver would never purposely hurt her. That he would injure himself before ever even contemplating hurting her.

That she was wrong was too much to comprehend. Oliver, _her_ Oliver ... Felicity didn't realize she was shaking, if she had, she wouldn't even be able to explain why she was – there were too many emotions, and they slammed into her; endlessly rolling from one to another, only to cycle back and start over again.

She ached, deep in her heart, which felt broken.

Felicity knew anything she’d say or that he would, would only make things worse. Knowing she could not live with that she did the only thing she could to preserve what they had; she sprinted from the room as the tears won the battle against her will and began to fall.

***

Watching her retreating form and hearing her sobs Oliver cursed himself. Violently. He took a few steps to follow her, but recalling the way Felicity had jerked when he tried to close the distance between them he stopped abruptly.

The look on her face, so reminiscent of the disbelief hurt that had crossed her face when Ra's announced he would be marrying Nyssa, twisted his gut. He could not believe he was screwing this up. The most vital part of his life.

He could do without so many of the things that currently occupied his life. Felicity and the family they had created together were the only things he could not live without. He was supposed to be taking care of her, giving her whatever she needed – and knew he hadn't been doing that. Oliver knew he was smothering her, driving Felicity crazy. He tried to stop. He really had, but he could still feel her blood on his hands and that pit in his stomach that formed knowing he could spend endless years without her.

That possibility was unbearable and still very, very real. He would do _anything_ to prevent it but it hadn't occurred to him that he could be the reason that Felicity wouldn't be in his future. Months ago he faced losing her due to outside forces and he thought that had been the worst thing he had ever experienced. Oliver knew differently now. Chasing the love of his life from the room, from him, hurting her when he’d sworn to make her nothing but happy.

It had been awhile since he hated himself. He had thought he moved beyond it, but standing in their living room, the sensation settled over him.

He _had_ to fix it. It was the only thing Oliver was certain of and it was the one thing he didn't know how to do. Not now, not after deliberately hurting her.

Ask. He had learned that after the debacle with the League. He didn't think it could be that easy this time, but it was where he had to start.

***

The gentle knock at their bedroom door surprised Felicity. It had been less than an hour since she made her hasty exit. Her eyes were dry now, though red from her crying jag.

Before she decided what she wanted to do, let Oliver in or tell him to go away, the door eased open. Felicity shuffled back to her makeup table as he entered the room. Delaying the conclusion of their discussion felt futile, but she wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible.

Oliver seemed to sense that because he did not come further into the room, instead he settled against the wall near the door.

"I know there are no excuses for my behavior or what I said, but there is something I need to tell you if you are willing to listen." He kept his gaze steady on her while he spoke, his eyes filled with regret.

Her voice which rarely failed her still wasn't ready to be used so she nodded her assent.

His relief was palpable, but his first choice of words made little sense to her. "Eighty-six. It is just a number for most people, but for me it has been the greatest gift and my worst nightmare."

Her confusion grew, but Felicity stayed silent as she found herself eager to learn where Oliver was going with this. "I visited Central City during my time with the League. I knew we might need Barry's help and when I went there to ask for it he was in need of mine with Thawne."

"I assisted Barry and Ronnie in apprehending him, but during the battle Thawne told me something about the future."

Felicity found herself moving forward, captured by his tale and curious about what he had been told. She saw Oliver's stance relax a bit has she cut some of the distance between them. When she got to the back edge of their bed she sat down and found herself asking, "What did he tell you?"

"That I was supposed to live to be eighty-six. There I was tumbling towards a plan that if I succeed I'd be dead and he was telling me that I was going to live. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't even hope to believe it, and then we defeated Ra's and you agreed to be with me. Suddenly knowing that I would get those years was the best thing ever, because they would be with you."

He stepped towards her with those words. "When we came back here, knowing that allowed me to be the Green Arrow. I didn’t know the details but I knew it would work out. I had those years, _we_ had those years." He came to stop in front of her, his knees knocking against the bed frame. "And then you got hurt. You were dying and I had all those years waiting for me. Years without you and I knew I didn't want them."

"Oliver," she said his name with a shaky breath.

"I can't just love you for the rest of your life Felicity. I will love you for the rest of mine. All fifty plus years or longer if the future has changed. What I don't think I can do is live one day without you. I know I've been impossible. I know I am screwing us up, but I need you – I need us – in my future."

"I know apologizing doesn't make up for my behavior, but I am asking for your forgiveness anyway. And I promise to try and be better and ask that you bear with me while I figure it out. So we can get back to us. And I swear that I will never, _ever_ do anything to deliberately hurt you again."

His eyes bore into hers, pouring all his love and commitment into her, and Felicity felt what had been broken begin to heal. "Just please, _please_ don't give up on me."

Because it was him asking she agreed.

It wasn't easy getting back on track, but it was worth it; and, as promised, they both loved the other for the rest of their lives.


End file.
